Colonist's Wife

“Do you think she’d talk to Rose?” asked Taka.

 

“It’s worth a go,” said the chief.

 

Taka nodded and left too.

 

“I’ll ask one last time. The woman has lied to you, misrepresented herself. She could be bringing a world of trouble down around our ears, Adam. Are you sure you want to go ahead with this?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Nathan nodded once. “Then go and do what you should be doing.”

 

“And what exactly is that?”

 

“Ranting and raving. Demanding to see the little woman. Everything a good husband would be doing in this dire situation.” Nathan gripped his shoulder and steered him toward the door. “Give us some cover to get what you need, because you can guarantee someone is watching.”

 

 

 

“Loouuiiisse…”

 

Oh shit. Louise gripped the arms of her seat and winced at the howling filling the hallway. It sounded loud and aggrieved and left no doubt whatsoever who was responsible. Adam, her soon-to-be ex-husband. She wrapped her arms around herself and held on tight. It didn’t help.

 

She could do this.

 

It had to be the right thing to do. The right thing, however, sucked. Something inside her felt broken and there’d be no mending it. She wanted to roll into a ball and hide in the corner, cry herself out. Instead she sat there and waited. The next ship wasn’t far away. She could do this.

 

“Loouuiiisse!”

 

Adam.

 

Christiana’s eyes widened and she gave her hair an irritated flick. “I’ll deal with this.”

 

“Okay.” Louise doubted the woman could deal with Adam on her best day, but there was no point objecting.

 

Louise couldn’t change her mind about leaving him. There was no going back. If he didn’t already suspect she’d lied to him about every last little thing, then he soon would. He’d use his army intelligence training and he’d find out. Then he’d hate her for sure. But worse, he just might make a target of himself. The wrong person could notice Adam asking questions and she couldn’t take the chance. Someone had said the wrong thing to the wrong person once at the DA’s office and one of her guards had ended up being tortured to death. It had happened right before they’d shoved her on the ship to come to Esther. Ample proof that the gangland bastards still had it burning fierce for her. She’d put one of their favorite sons on death row for killing Con. This was on her.

 

Adam would not get caught in the crossfire.

 

“Louise! Where are you?” he bellowed from beyond.

 

Her shoulders jerked and her face fell. The poor baby—he sounded so wounded. That and as mad as all hell.

 

“Princess!”

 

“Mrs. Elliot?” The guy from earlier was standing before her. Josh something. The pretty blond who’d brought her the good news in the garden.

 

“Yes?”

 

Christiana came bustling back in. She looked twitchy. Well riled up. “Security is holding him back. The man is completely unreasonable.”

 

Yes. He was. And she loved every unreasonable inch of him.

 

“I was just going to move Mrs. Elliot to a more secure location,” Josh informed her.

 

Christiana pulled out her com. “Oh I don’t think—”

 

Josh’s arm wound around the counselor’s neck in a heartbeat and he set his hand on the side of her head. Then he twisted. The crack of Christiana’s neck as it broke…gods, the sound. Louise almost wet herself in stark terror.

 

Christiana’s com unit fell from her dead hand and clattered to the ground.

 

“Don’t even make a peep,” the man told her. “But you’re not going to, are you? You wouldn’t want anything to happen to that idiot out there.”

 

She shook her head.

 

“Princess! Get out here.” Adam sounded closer than before—dangerously so.

 

The guy gave her a grim smile and Christiana’s limp body slid to the floor. “Thought as much.”

 

Fucker. No, she wouldn’t make a peep. But she wasn’t standing around and making it easy for him either.

 

Louise threw herself out of the chair and high-tailed it. Fear gave her fuel. The room had two doors and she made for the one farthest from him. He made a noise, some growly sound, and she just kept going. There was an endless white corridor with an occasional door featuring a cleaner’s cart decal. Useless—she ran on. Her pulse thudded like a stampede.

 

Adam yelled again behind her, called out her name. She had to get the murderous prick away from him—had to. Might be the last damn thing she ever did, but that would be okay. That would be fine. Escape would only ever be temporary, outgunned as she was. Deep down in some shadowy corner, she’d always known, or at least suspected. One day they’d get her.